For anyone who knew him at all — and how he took the scenic route to finishing high school — this was a huge accomplishment in itself.

Neeley's story, which has an incredibly sad final chapter, was a story of perseverance.

Neeley had big hoops dreams. Shaquille O'Neal-sized hoop dreams.

In fact, my first experience with him was on a basketball court. We were similar in stature. After the first pickup game, I showed him what colleges expect from small point guards, which was to play at a pace so fast that it essentially favors all the fast people and negates the slow people, who are usually tall.

In the second pickup game, Neeley took my advice. And he flew past everyone on the court. I thought to myself, this kid has a chance to be really good. There were flashes of it in high school, too, like the game where he had 43 points against Stuarts Draft, a point total he accomplished without playing much of the fourth quarter.

I took Neeley and Shai Matthews to a Lee High football game at Broadway. We stopped by my aunt and uncle's house in Broadway. I told my aunt and uncle that these two guards were going to be better than me in basketball.

Obviously, things didn't go as planned. His career at Lee ended on a sour note. Neeley was dismissed from the team midway through the season. The prep school route didn't produce the results he had hoped, either.

Here's what made our community so proud of Neeley — even though he was out of playing eligibility, Neeley re-enrolled himself at Lee.

When Neeley was in D. Moats Barber Shop, good-natured "old man" jokes came at him fast and furiously. The truth is we were all proud that Neeley chose to be the "old man" and go back and finish high school.

Yes, Neeley made his mistakes, but he wasn't going to let his mistakes define him.

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(Photo: File/The News Leader)

My last conversation with Neeley was in that barbershop. There were four former Lee High point guards all under 6-foot in stature — Matthews, Neeley, Danny Moats and myself — and I was trying share who they thought was the best player. Listening to each guard make a case for himself was pure comedy.

That was my last conversation with Neeley. On the way out of the shop, I told him that I was very proud of him and if he ever needed anything — which was usually a ride to meet Matthews or Sonny Toye — that he could call me.

I had no clue that would be our last conversation. I would have said so much more.

We were really proud when he enrolled in Chowan University, even though he wasn't certain if he had a role on the basketball team. He had grown to see that education in itself was important, whether or not it was attached to a school basketball jersey.

The community was excited that Neeley was rewriting his story to have a happier ending.

And now we're sad that he's gone.

We're sad that his dad is burying a son for the second time this summer.

We're sad for this group of friends who have already been to the funerals for friends.

We're sad for the families of the alleged suspects.

We're sad that the days when kids could fist-fight and live to see another day seem to be gone.

But we're hopeful that this will be a wake-up call for our community.

We're hopeful that someone will say enough is enough and invest in the lives of these kids.

We're hopeful that Coleman Neeley didn't die in vain.

How do we as a community turn this negative into a positive?

That's for us to decide together.

Chris Lassiter is a Staunton native and a former writer for The News Leader. He is closely involved with youth issues in the area.